


Irish You Were Mine

by AbbyDebeaupre



Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Accidental Touching, M/M, Mutual?Masturbation, Overhearing Sex, Stealthy he’s not, one bed trope, wait...are You???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-09
Updated: 2019-04-09
Packaged: 2020-01-07 10:54:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18409184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbbyDebeaupre/pseuds/AbbyDebeaupre
Summary: The ole one bed/overhearing the couple next door having loud sex trope.....





	Irish You Were Mine

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place in the Scottish Prisoner timeline, when Jamie and John join forces to investigate a Jacobite conspiracy in Ireland. Shortly after they return to England, John marries Isobel and Jamie returns to Lallybroch.

John lay awake, surrounded by darkness, all too conscious of the frantic sounds coming from the room next door and the body heat coming off the man laying inert in the bed butted next to his. The beds were indeed separate— each having their own mattresses and bedding but the configuration of the room was such that the frames were placed side by side with narry an inch of space between them. When Tom Byrd had excitedly announced he’d secured the only available room in this God forsaken village, John counted them as lucky. After weeks on the road, sleeping rough, their only respite had been the night they’d stayed at the abbey, though if anything the cold stone of the monks’ cells were even less hospitable than sleeping outdoors. John had been looking forward to the warmth of a real hearth and someone else’s cooking.

He knew Jamie wasn’t pleased about the prospect of sharing a room with him, but they’d done so in times past and Jamie knew better than to suggest that he join Tom and board in the stables. Tom Byrd would have an apoplexy at the breach of gentlemanly decorum. It also would have raised doubts about their identities and they were, as far as possible, sticking to the cover story his brother Hal had concocted. This hairbrained wild goose chase to Ireland had been both a welcomed distraction from the complications presented by Percy Wainwright.

Travelling with Jamie Fraser, however, was its own kind of torture. For one thing, it was a good deal harder to see Jamie as a treasonous enemy when he was engaging in espionage to protect the English monarchy; and, for another, impossible to dismiss him as a barbarian when he was dressed to the nines, looking every inch like the Laird he was. John wondered whether he’d ever cease being amazed by the man. In the last month alone, he’d fit himself seamlessly into every conceivable social milieu they had thus encountered.  It made no difference whether they were in Hal’s drawing room or strolling in Hyde Park, eating at the Beefstake or in the library at the priory, Jamie took it all in stride and John’s attraction hadn’t abated one bit. If it wasn’t for the chance to prove once and for all their father hadn’t been in league with the Jacobites at the time of his death, John would have told his brother to go to hell, conspiracies and uprisings be damned.

Knowing that Jamie was not as sanguine about their shared accommodations as he, John didn’t immediately return to the room after dinner. Instead, he tried to give Jamie a chance to settle; John played cards, making sure to lose more than he won, and drank several extra glasses of ale in the taproom. Laying in bed now, John hoped to hell Jamie had already fallen asleep as another high pitched squeal pierced the still air of the room, and a “ _Slap my arse, love!_ ” was followed by a series of guttural grunts and heavy whacks.

John squirmed under the bedclothes, feeling hot, despite the fact the fire had been smoored. He was in his sark, choosing to emulate Jamie’s choice of bedclothes. Normally he slept in the nude, but he hoped to spare any unnecessary awkwardness with his roommate. John glanced over at Jamie’s inert form, still facing the opposite wall. He hadn’t moved, hadn’t by any physical tell indicated that he was awake, his breathing stayed steady and yet… John sensed a shift in energy.

A coarse laugh and a shout of “ _More, Simon, I’m getting so wet_ ,” caused his companion to make a small grunting noise of his own and throw his arm over his head, positioning his bicep to cover his ear. John snorted. He couldn’t help himself. Surely, Jamie didn’t think it would block out their racket?

Jamie lifted his head slightly and gave him a raised brow. In the dim glow of the candle on the nightstand, John could see the half smile that played on his lips.

“Are you wishing we were back enjoying the silent hospitality of Brother Michael?” John asked even as the rhythmic thumps continued unabated.

“I dinna mind. I’ve lived afore in a monastery, though that one was in France.”

This caused John to laugh. “You lived in a monastery?” he blurted, before thinking better of it.

“I dinna wish to shock ye, but ye do ken I am a Papist?” Jamie said in a false confessional tone that delighted John, who was sure the combination of sex sounds and lying in bed next to a man who had told you in no uncertain terms that he wanted you, was making Jamie uneasy.

“Oh, I had an inkling,” John agreed, “And what would be the Papist take be regarding the goings-on in the room next door?”

Jamie waited a moment to answer as Simon was shouting, “ _Ride me, Betty, ride that hard cock!_ ”

Jamie made a tsking sound, “And they be married there is nay sin, so what business of mine?”

“Aside from the fact that they are so vocal they may as well sell tickets and invite us to watch?” John replied, causing Jamie to choke in surprise. “What if they are not married?”

“ _It’s so thick, now!_ ” Betty moaned.

“ _Knees!_ ” Simon said urgently, a thump and a bang and his, “ _You love being plowed from behind_ ,” made Betty whimper. The headboard rattled against the shared wall between the rooms.

John let out an involuntary gasp at that, and Jamie made a sound of amusement that came from deep in his chest.

“Well, everyone gets lonely now and again,” Jamie observed, giving him a sad, sweet smile, “He without sin can be the first to cast stones, aye?”

They both fell silent as the grunts and thuds next door reached a crescendo followed by a high-pitched wail and then silence. Thank the Lord! Both he and Jamie sighed in relief.

John must have drifted to sleep, for the next thing he realized it was almost pitch black in the room, the faint blue glow of the moon filtering through the window the only available light. The candle had spluttered out, the fire mere embers. Despite the chill, John was sweating. He became aware of the fact that their neighbors were at it once more.

“ _Christ!_ ” he heard Simon exclaim, “ _Your pussy’s tight as a vice!_ ”

Betty was moaning encouragement, “ _Give me another finger, Simon, please_ ,” followed by mutual gasps and a moan.  

John thought about how long it had been since he himself had been in the arms of a lover. The swell of need was not just in his heart; his cock lay rigid against his belly and he could not resist grasping it in his hand, if only to relieve the pressure. He started to exhale forcefully, then remembered where he was– who lay next to him and bit the sound off mid-breath. Every muscle in his body contracted as he struggled to hold himself immobile.

“ _Betty, don’t stop, your mouth feels so good._ ”

John waited, still cupping himself, counting a dozen breaths, belatedly recognizing that he was timing his respiratory system to the rhythmic thrusts coming from next door.  A spurt of precum rolled over his fingers, he resisted the temptation to rub the wetness over his length. The strain and discomfort of being so rigid….everywhere…was taking a toll. He bit the inside of his cheek to distract himself. John’s ears rang with the sound of the happy couple and he willed Jamie to stay asleep. Finally, finally, John allowed his body to relax back into the mattress, shifting just a bit to hike up his sark as he did so.

“ _Come up here, lass, let me inside that sweet cunny._ ” Betty grunted, her mouth obviously too full to reply.

“ _Shall I stick my finger in your bum?_ ” she asked and then unleashed a throaty laugh.

John gave in with a nearly silent groan of pleasure, his palm pumping the moment he heard Simon’s answering whine. It was just too much, he was slick and swollen, he couldn’t remember the last time he was this hard. Reckless and euphoric with desire, he stroked and pulled and rubbed. John heard the rustle of the bed coverings.  He subtly moved the blankets off his body. Too late, he realized he should have shifted the other way and piled up the blankets to make his activities less obvious, just in case Jamie could see. The thought of Jamie watching made his cock jump. Oh fuck! John moved his other hand lower and lightly squeezed his balls.

He closed his eyes, and his mind immediately filled with an image of Jamie as he lay in the glow of last night’s campfire. John pressed his thumb hard into the head of his cock and bit his lip hard to stop himself from crying out. Throwing caution to the wind, he pushed the fabric of his shirt up as far as he could, exposing his chest and pinched a nipple.

“ _That’s it, lick that ass_ ,” Simon’s order hit John squarely in his midsection and he couldn’t help but gasp.  

John was fisting himself now, knees bent, feet braced on the mattress, hips flexing to make the most of the movement. Picturing Jamie as he lay against the linen pillow that evening, sleeve slipped back and arm flung over his head. John knew he’d been trying to drown out the sounds of sex, but the movement was so casually intimate, so reminiscent of the act of a lover that John imagined himself sliding over Jamie and licking the salt from the hollow of his throat, the tickle of chest hair under his chin.  

“ _I want to fuck you, Betty_ ,” Simon moaned, “ _You ready?_ ”

He couldn’t make out her response but the slap of the headboard was clear enough as the chant of “ _Fuck, fuck, fuck…_ ”

John could picture his hands parting firm, solid buttocks, running his tongue up and down the crease of Jamie’s beautiful broad… back. That breathless moment when he notches his cock preparing for entry. The way carpet rubs and burns the knees, how he loves looking at the graceful line of a bent neck. Suddenly he craved more. Without thinking at all, he brought his palm to his mouth and licked generously, bringing it down to his cock, the wet squelch spurring him on to quicken his pace. He was dying for release, craved it as the moans in the next room escalated.

So attuned to the sounds around him, he heard the small panting exhalations as Simon and Betty both move toward the end.

“ _Come inside me, come with me!_ ” John heard Betty say, and he wants to do the same, just a little more pressure from his fingers. He can almost feel the heat of Jamie’s body as he loses himself in his fantasy as Betty and Simon cry out in release.  

John’s hand moved forcefully… up and down… as if he were fucking Jamie at that moment, he’d bite that sweet spot on the back of Jamie’s shoulder, helpless in his passion. He could even feel Jamie’s hot breath on his neck.

 _Jesus fuck!_ He shouldn’t be feeling Jamie’s breath anywhere near his neck, not if he is taking him from behind. John desperately tried to move, but Jamie’s body was lying part way on John’s bed and his weight rolled John straight into him. Rather than make his erection shrivel, John’s cock grew harder, he is hyper aware of the feel of his thigh against Jamie’s. John tried to make a grab for his shirt, the blanket, a pillow, anything at all, reaching, straining to find something, anything in the dark.

His fingers finally come up with his shirt. The relief is short lived for in the next moment, the tip of his cock accidentally brushed against… _Fuck!_ His cock pulses, just on the verge. John is lightheaded, the slick slide of his shaft rubbing against the taut, hot skin of the man who has fueled over a dozen years of erotic dreams. Oh God, he is so close, the sound of a roar inside his head signals his impending orgasm. A small whimper escapes his clenched lips, he cannot bite it back and it hangs in the chilly air between them.

In the pale wash of moonlight, John feels their eyes lock on one another and he forgets how to breathe. He tried to make a sound, find a way to explain or apologize when he hears Jamie’s urgent whisper of “ _Now!_ ” and John gives in with a moan of pure ecstasy. Just in time, he remembered to press the shirt over himself. His back arched off the mattress and he bites his lip hard enough to taste blood but he’d never come so hard in his life.

When his senses return, he hears Jamie make a contented sigh, and then Jamie’s body shifts and rolls back over once more.


End file.
